I put this on the Mutant Message Down Under Facebook comments forum today:
A man and a woman, who said they were real people, tribe came to me out of dream time and we had a brief telepathic conversation in the midst of several white Australians who saw and heard none of it. I can understand why today’s aborigines might take offense over Morgan’s description of the tribe, given it was seriously evolved in the soul sense. I can understand why today’s white Australians might take offense for the same reason. I figured when I read Mutant Message in the early 1990s, that Morgan might have taken some poetic license, but the story rang true to me nonetheless, in the soul sense. I did not care for her second book, which I felt missed the point of the first book and was opportunistic. I wonder sometimes if she went back to her old ways after coming back to the States and gaining fame and fortune? I never conversed with her, so I can answer my own question. Sloan Bashinsky, Little Torch Key, Florida
It then was my habit to ask spirit beings when they appeared to me, what did I have that they wanted? When I asked the two aborigines that, they laughed, said, “We are real people, what could you possibly have that we would want?” I was mortified. So chastened, I asked them why they had come? They said, “We came to welcome you into our tribe.” I wept. They dissolved. Shortly after that, I was headed back to the States. On arriving, what I had thought in Boulder was hard work was slowly but surely made to look like munching twinkies.
I recall we had some discussion about bears in the late 2003, and I bought you an animal symbols book, after you had dreamt about a bear, or bears. Introspection, as I recall, was what that book said bear is about. The angels seem to have installed a permanent microscope in my navel, which they frequently use to remind me to keep studying my own interior. The real people in Mutant Message werre into that, and into following the external signs, and having all sorts of unexpected experiences, not all fun, some were okay, and they were telepathic with each other, but spoke words so Marlo could know what they were saying to her. She said because they were telepathic, they had no secrets among themselves.
I found much criticism of her book online today, severe charges that she made it all up and eventually confessed to it, but I never could find the confession online, or anything she wrote, or was quoted, in which she admitted she made it all up and did not meet a tribe and walk with it. Maybe the angels posed at two aborigines, when I was in Kakadoo. That would be possible. Whatever, what sure looked to me like two aborigines came to me out of dream time and we had the conversation discribed above, and then I didn’t want to live in Australia anymore, nor in New Zeland, I soon would learn, when I laid over there one night. Sloan
I enjoyed reading this! Agree with Frank and beginning to understand how the angel factor operates with you… I never had such proddings in this lifetime but I mostly agree with the way you see things! Reminds me of the Don Juan’s Castaneda books where Don Juan tells Carlitos to “Watch out for the omens”! Serendipity and such can validate the right path… I suppose!
Serendipitous experiences are part of it, usually happen daily. Dreams are 90 percent, though. I was told in my sleep in Nepal, early in the trek: “You just completed the 2nd year of a 3-year training. Go somewhere comfortable to you to complete the 3rd year.” I had just broken up with my 3rd wife, in Boulder. My heart was in tatters, I was about half crazy, crying a lot, being angry some of the time. I was having lots of phenomenal experiences in my sleep and when awake. Serendipity was plentiful. But I had no clue where to go for the 3rd year of the training. Birmingham, Dominica, the Keys? Not back to Boulder, that was clear.
Before starting the trek, I had already booked a flight to Darwin, after getting a 6-month visa at the Australian Embassy in Kathmandu. So I knew I was headed down under. Maybe I would spend a year there, somehow? But in Darwin, I realized I had not the stamina to do Australia, nor New Zealand, which also was in my mental itinerary, having also wanted to live there. When I got the nudges at the restaurant that night in Darwin, then at the pub near the hostel in Sydney, that was all I needed to know I should go to Birmingham. Also, I’d had a dream in Kathmandu the night before I flew to Darwin, indicating I should be in Birmingham.
One would think a space cadet like me going half way round the world into the heart of Buddhism and Hinduism, both very prevalent in Nepal, my other world experiences would be with spirit energies in those traditions. Not so. I told a story out loud today to whomever might be listening, of trekking slowly up to Anapurna Base Camp, from Pohkara, only find it fogged in. Word was it was important to wait for a clear morning and watch the sun rise over Fishtail Mountain and strike the rim of peaks across the way. Fishtail’s top was shaped like a whale’s tail. It was said spirits lied there and it was illegal for foreigners to go on that mountain. I had walked underneath it for days, en rough to Anapurna Base Camp, 15,000 ft. elevation, which was where mountain climbers set up their base camps, before beginning their ascents. These several peaks (rim) were maybe 26,000-27,000 feet, Fishtail, too.
Anyway, it was 3 days before there was a clear morning, and I got to know several of the trekkers pretty well. None were American. When I saw the stars on the third morning, I went up from the lodges to a small ridge, where other trekkers were gathered to watch the sunrise. As the dawn came, the rim of peaks were spectacular, snow and ice their apparel. Then, the sun cleared Fishtail and hit the peaks across the way. What was spectacular became super spectacular. I felt something coming in and kelt down on one knee, like a Grail knight might do. I looked up and saw a huge blacksmith, crystal black, over the rim of mountains. I sensed I would hear, “The Father and I are one,” but I heard, “The Son and I are one.” I stood up and went back to my hut and got my backpack and headed back down the trail, thinking I was the Son.
Idiot. Was ten years, or more, before I realized the Son was the Christ. The weird thing was, I already knew the Blacksmith was the Christ, because I had seen him in a dream in Boulder the year before. Then, I’d had a living (vision) poem about the Blacksmith jump out of me. He threw me on his anvil in his red hot forge and was pounding me into something he could use. The Baptism in Fire of which Jesus spoke that he brought and administered, I later would come to understand after I’d done some New Testament review in 1999. But I get 4 years ahead of myself.
Well, I went back to Birmingham from down under and got put on that anvil and that fiery forge in ways I could not possibly have imagined, even though it had been darn hard before that. I have been on that anvil ever since. Sometimes it’s been harder than other times, but it’s always been rough. The Castendas book in which I see lots of parallels in my own experience, I have mentioned the book to you a few times, is The Eagle’s Gift, was put before me in a restaurant on Tortolla in early 1996. I ran to Tortolla, then to Dominica, after running to the Keys, trying to find a place to spend the 3rd year of the training. That’s the Castendas book about the excruciating personal work, the inside work pushed by testy outside and inside experiences that put me on one edge after another – that’s the excruciating alchemy reading and studying and conversing cannot replace.
I was so ungrounded during that time, that the 1-year training was put off a year, and when it came, it was ten times worse than anything I had experienced, which had not been easy. I wanted to kill myself daily. And because I was not reading the signs and/or was gripped in raw terror to seize the opportunities, it lasted about 15 months, before it started to lift in mid-1998. Then, another training started, very rough, but not as bad as the one year. That last training, the Mechizedek training, is still underway.
There is no way to get through it without serendipitous ecperiences ongoing, guiding and correcting dreams, direct plain English instruction in my sleep, telepathic and emotional and physical empathic nudgings, or shoving, when I’m awake, visions when I’m awake, spirit infusions that recharge my batteries, lift me up and get me moving again, and even then it’s rough.
Kakadoo was very rough on me because we were on the move close to 20 hours a day, for 3 days. I was physically wrecked, even after doing pretty well trekking in the Nepal highlands. Living on the street was very rough in another way. Now that I’m living inside, I could not do that kind of rough again – too old, fat, out of shape, lazy. The angels make up for it with throwing ever increasing loads of coal in the kiln.
That’s some weird tale for modern times… I’ve read a lot of stuff like that about Taoist immortals going through the alchemical cauldron of purification to obtain the state of Wu wei. It seems the Angels(for you) are the Western equivalent of this Eastern spiritual training. You are correct this is not something one can relate to conceptually(with words) it has to be lived, experienced as a dismembering of all that we hold dear. That’s why, I am not ready to jump into that fire… no thank you!
Plunging in the Alchemical Cauldron of Sacred Fire
Purging the alter ego and the energies of control, manipulation and dominance
During this coming Lunar Eclipse and Solstice, we are standing naked in the fire along with the energy of manipulation and control, the large and subtle patterns… so get ready. We are being squeezed and there is no where to hide. For many, this will trigger a great dissolve of the alter ego. We signed up for this and it is not easy. It seems like everything purges this cycle for those of us on the front lines of our planetary ascension.
P.S. re planetary ascension I’m not hearing anything from the angels about planetary ascension, which gets a lot of discussion in New Age circles and some Native American traditions. I was told in April 2006, in my sleep, “The species did not reach escape velocity, this has happened before, but you can still do it.” I took that as a sequel to my being asked in my sleep in April 2004, “What do you think of the species?” I awoke, said while some individuals had been helped to evolve on this planet, in general the species had lost its creativity (the feminine aspect) and was devolving. I said, given what a mess I still was after all that the angels had done to change me, and given that maybe 50,000 humans planet-wide would survive similar treatment, maybe the compassionate approach would be to remove the species (the souls, the bodies would not survive the transit) from the planet and put them somewhere they would have a chance to evolve. Maybe the planet sneezes, or hiccups, and sheds the fleas, and so lightened of its parasites the planet’s spirit vibration increases? In Mutant Message Down Under, the real people said they they were leaving this planet and had chosen to stop reproducing as their part of leaving this planet to the mutants (modern humans) to have their chance to evolve, or further devolve.